My Moulin
by Roxal
Summary: You've heard the story of Moulin Rouge, right? Well this is sort of like that. Warnings: AU. Lemon. Language. OCs. Status: Abandoned. [SoraRiku]
1. Intro

In a haze, in a stormy haze, I'll be 'round, I'll be loving you always. Always. Here I am and I'll take my time. Here I am and I'll wait in line always. Always.  
  
So I've made some mistakes. Ok, a LOT of mistakes. But I never hurt him! I never meant to hurt him, or drag him into all this. You've heard the story of Moulin Rouge, right? Well this is sort of like that, but the roles are a bit reversed. And some are much different. But there are still the whore (that's me. Heh.), the innocent, the pimp, and the back-stabber. If you don't know who the back-stabber was, it was Nini.  
  
In my Moulin, the innocent is the one who was killed. He wasn't sick, but shot. Shot by that backstabbing bitch. I'd kill her if she weren't already dead. I'm the one who lived, when it should have been him. He had so much to offer. I was already an empty shell, even though he had filled me with love. Now I've begun to doubt whether love is real.  
  
Perhaps I should introduce the cast. First will be their role, their Moulin Rouge counterpart, and their name. Some have no counterpart, but we'll just ignore that, shall we? And not all the characters from Moulin are in this, either. It's not the same story. It's my story. There are just some parallels.  
  
The whore - Satine - Myself, Riku  
  
The innocent - Christian - Sora  
  
The pimp - Zidler - Ansem  
  
The back-stabber - Nini Legs-in-the-air - Kairi  
  
The servile mite - Warner - Maleficent  
  
Other whores - Diamond Dogs - Shimbo, Heideki, Selphie  
  
There are more, but at the moment I'm too weary to name them. At a later date I will begin this story. A story of freedom, beauty, truth, and love. Freedom from pimps and brothels, the beauty of something fresh and new, the truth of who and what we really are, and the love that an innocent can share with a worthless whore. But I shouldn't say that, because he always told me I wasn't worthless. At least I meant something to him.  
  
I wanna live life, never be cruel. I wanna live life, always be true. I wanna live life, be good to you. I wanna fly, never come down. We never change do we? No, no. We never learned to bleed. 


	2. Sex, drugs, and R&B

I awake to find no peace of mind. I said, "how do you live as a fugitive?" Down here, where I cannot see so clear. I said, "what do I know? Show me the right way to go."  
  
Let's see, where to start? I suppose that would be at the beginning. But which beginning? Perhaps to know the motives and emotions of a creature such as myself you must know my origins and past.  
  
I was born in the slums of east Tokyo to a seventeen-year-old single mother. I never knew my real father, and I don't care to either. I had a string of "foster" fathers, a.k.a. drunken bastards who wanted a piece of my mother's ass and nothing to do with me. Though they did find the time to beat me quite often, and to tell me I was a worthless pain in the ass. At around ten, that didn't matter anymore.  
  
When I was ten years old, I discovered the wonderful world of drugs. Mom was a crack whore at that point anyway, so it wasn't that hard to steal what I could from her, and when she'd snorted or smoked everything she had, I'd steal money from her purse, or my current father's wallet. It didn't take long before I was stealing every chance I got, whether I needed the money or not. At age eleven, I ran away, living in the streets or taking refuge anywhere I was welcome. The poor hold a lot of sympathy for lost children.  
  
By the time I turned twelve, money became an issue. For some reason, I found it much harder to steal. It was probably because I was so fucked up from all the drugs I was using. There pretty much wasn't anything I wouldn't take. Pot, heroin, ecstasy, crack, coke, LSD, anything that messed with my mind and perception. I wouldn't let myself believe how bad things had gotten, but in the back of my mind it didn't matter, because, after all, I was worthless.  
  
Worthlessness took on a new meaning in my twelfth year of life. At that point, I was completely desperate for money, shelter, anything to keep me alive. I found a dealer who said he might be willing to help me if I did something for him. Well, that something wasn't exactly what I had in mind. At twelve years old I lost my virginity to a man who gave me "free" drugs. And that started my life as a whore. I sold myself to whoever would take me: men, women, young, old, it didn't matter. As long as I got my money, I was fine. Not happy, but fine. From then on, the word "worthless" meant I wasn't getting paid.  
  
At sixteen, I hit rock bottom, or so I'm told. Someone got me into rehab, though I don't really remember who she was. I just call her my angel. Brown hair and blue eyes, that's all I remember. No face, no name, not even a voice. But she was my angel.  
  
By seventeen I was clean, ready to go back to the streets and try to make something of myself. I soon found it was impossible with no education and no permanent address to find any job worth having. So I was forced back into whoring. I found a brothel and told them I was eighteen, so they would let me stay there. The owner, or pimp, I suppose, was an older man named Ansem. He took a liking to me, though I always remained afraid of and intimidated by him. He held the keys, he decided how much money I got to keep, and he could kick my ass back out on the street if I pissed him off, so I gave him anything he asked of me and more.  
  
The house was home to mostly girls, around my age or younger (even though they claimed to be of age it was obvious that they were not) who had the same motives I used to or still did. There were only two other boys. They were in their early twenties. I did not ask their ages because it would be presumptuous and rude. Shimbo was the older of the two, Heideki being the other. They seemed to be in love, though it is impossible for a whore to fall in love. In the three years I was there, Heideki remained throughout, while Shimbo seemed to leave whenever he got into trouble or couldn't take anything anymore. Whenever he was there, though, he and Heideki were all over each other when business was slow. Poor kid seemed really down when his lover took a six-month absence. He returned, though, and shot him two months later in a jealous rage. Or so I've heard. It was about three months after I left that this happened.  
  
Being the only single male, I was open to many of the girls, though I wasn't interested. I'm bisexual, or so I would suppose. The only love I've ever felt was for a man, though, so I'm not really sure. You could group the girls in their attitudes and opinions about me. The vast majority was in love with me; constantly swooning and flirting and all other ridiculous things girls with crushes do. I did my best to ignore them or merely told them that they would get what they could pay for, which in most cases wasn't even an icy glare. Some were repulsed, not only by me, but Heideki and Shimbo as well. I don't really know why, since they were selling themselves as well, but I suppose it was because we sold ourselves to /men/. Women very rarely came in, and if they did, they mostly wanted another girl. Those that did not fit into the other two groups did their best to tolerate me and be pleasant, though there was really no point.  
  
I made friends with only two of the girls. Selphie was my confidant. I trusted her quite a lot. She was perhaps sixteen when I met her and nineteen when I left. She was gentle and kind, though mostly she was exuberant and cheery. We needed cheer. That place got so damned gloomy sometimes. The other girl was Kairi. Sometimes I felt she hated me, was jealous of me, and others I felt like we were best friends. It was a very strange relationship, and toward the end, before Sora came in to my life, I felt as though I could fall in love with her. She was by far the most beautiful of all the other girls, and much more personable; sometimes moreso than Selphie. She was real, and she had pain like I did. We became close without really getting close. She knew as much about me as I did about her, and all I knew was her name.  
  
After two years of living in that hellhole, I finally got my own apartment. Sure, it was small, had no heat or air, and the plumbing was bad, but it was mine. Mine and mine alone, and no one could take it from me. Except the landlord if I missed a rent payment. And Ansem would tell me if I would be able to or not. It was always "yes," but sometimes that answer took some work.  
  
It was harmless. It couldn't hurt you. Though you were helpless, I know you'll get through. 


	3. Dreams can be Real

If you ever feel neglected, and if you think all is lost, I'll be counting up my demons, yeah, hoping everything's not lost. 

The night Sora came started out like most others. It was irritatingly loud, as the hall was filled with the raucous laughter of the whores and their clients. The pounding of the rain added a sort of hypnotic rhythm to their antics. I was seated in a rather large armchair, trying to look unfazed as a migraine started to form at my temples. The atmosphere of the room was helter skelter; people ran from one side to the other, dancing; chasing; grabbing; whatever they could. Occasionally an overly dressed up doll would drag a drunken patron up the stairs to one of the many bedrooms. From my vantage point I could see the entire balcony: an endless wall of deep walnut doors which led to sparse rooms. Each had a bed and a chair (a few had nightstands), but did they really need anything more? 

I was busy getting lost in the swirling pattern of the rug as the smell of sake and plum wine filled my nostrils when I heard the door open rather loudly. A boy of about seventeen or eighteen closed the door behind him, lowering the hood of his black rain slicker and shaking out his umbrella. At first, I paid him no mind, merely thinking he was rather rude for slamming the door like that, but not really giving a damn. If there were some law against that, Ansem would come and throw his ass out. No need for me to worry.

Then I noted his appearance. Other than being completely drenched from the torrential rain outside, I noticed his unruly brown hair, and his deep, blue eyes. Something in the depths of my soul recognized him (though I know I'd never seen him before that night). I remembered large, open blue eyes, a soft voice, a comforting hand….. But all of those things had belonged to a woman. I know that for certain. Either way, though, I felt something in me stir for him, as it never had for anyone else.

This boy's eyes were different from the ones I remembered, however. They had an animalistic quality; he looked absolutely predatory. I watched him as he scanned the room, a few whores approaching him and swooning over how 'cute' he was. He ignored them and continued surveying the area. His eyes fell on Hideki, who was currently alone (Shimbo had disappeared some months earlier), and started toward him. Something in my heart panged as I watched him go. Suddenly, a rather large vase was knocked over somewhere behind me (someone was going to pay dearly for that later), and his gaze shifted to me. And he noticed I had been watching him. 

He walked up to me much like a lion would approach a wounded gazelle. His shoulders were hunched and his expression poured hunger and nothingness at the same time. I then noticed that he wore a look of betrayal and revenge. When he approached me and finally spoke, his tone was short and harsh.

"Are you a whore?" He asked, his eyes narrow slits. I let the remark slide; I've been asked the same question many times, often more rudely.

"Of course I am." I answered, trying my best to look seductive while being unnerved by those tense, stone eyes.

"How much do you charge?" He asked in the same even, irritated tone.

"That depends on what you want, sweetie." I purred, running a hand along his shoulder.

"I want you to fuck me." He said forthright, and I was impressed. 

"Well, we certainly know what we want, don't we?" I smirked, bringing my hand up to touch his cheek, but he jerked away.

"I asked 'how much?'" He said coldly.

"¥4000." I stated plainly, letting my hand fall and rest on my hip as I stood. His eyes flickered for an instant.

"Then let's go." He remarked, standing expectantly, waiting for me to lead him upstairs.

"Right this way, your majesty." I said jokingly, but he didn't find it in the least bit amusing. I smirked at his somehow childish pout and started toward the stairs. He followed closely behind, as though I were a life raft in this sea of madness. We made it to the second floor and I searched down the hallway for an unoccupied room. I found one, and as I put my hand on the doorknob I heard a catcall from downstairs. 

Glancing over the railing I saw Selphie waving energetically at me from a couch. I smiled and flipped her off, to which she responded by sticking her tongue out. Then she motioned to Kairi, who was sitting next to her, sulking. 'She's jealous!' Selphie mouthed, and I grinned at her, laughing slightly before turning back to open the door. And for those last few seconds I saw the look of anger ingrain itself into my memory.

He stepped into the room first and had his back to me as I turned to lock the door. When I turned around again, he was standing in the same position, just staring vacantly ahead of him.

"Well?" I questioned softly, "Are you just going to keep your clothes on the whole time, or do I have to undress you?" I smiled, placing my hands gingerly on his shoulders so as to slide the coat off, but he swiftly turned around.

His eyes were no longer cold and vengeful, but completely panic-stricken. He dropped the umbrella he was holding and became wide-eyed. "I-I—" He started, but trailed off, staring into my eyes. I found this look to be even more unnerving than the previous.

"Are you okay?" I questioned, in a genuinely worried tone. As he stared, I brought a hand up to stroke his cheek in a comforting manner.

"I-I never….. I never thought I would get this far." He said, more to himself than to me, and looked away, letting his brows knit together in a reflective moment.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Do you want to leave?" 

"I, uhm, well, no, actually. I still want to do this but, I'm not sure." He sighed, sitting down on the bed behind him. "Actually, I'd rather talk first. You don't have to listen, if you don't want to, I guess." He said, blushing as he looked at the hands twisting in his lap.

I was astonished. This was the same man who had been so terse and testy a moment before? He had obviously been putting up a front, but the way in which his manner had changed – his vulnerability in itself – was incredible. I had to hear his story now. He had sucked me into his topsy-turvy world, and I accepted it fully.

"No, I want to hear it." I replied, sitting down next to him. He looked at me for a moment, much the same way as a deer would look at oncoming headlights, then avoided my gaze, blushing more deeply and swallowing a lump in his throat. I placed a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. I felt as though I were trying to get a child to tell the story of a horrific murder they had witnessed. "It's ok." I whispered.

He closed his eyes, rubbing one with his fingertips before letting his hand fall back into his lap. "I-it's a rather strange story, really. I-I'm not sure where to begin." He sighed, leaning toward me as the breath escaped his lips.

He smiled warmly, letting my free hand rub his which were wringing in his lap. "Start wherever you feel comfortable." I whispered gently.

He nodded slightly, his eyes downcast. "Well…" he began, and shifted his weight almost imperceptibly as he leaned on me, "I guess it really started about a year ago. You see, I'm a painter. It was about a year ago that I started gaining recognition, and I went to do a show in the city. It was there that I met _her_…" he placed certain emphasis on the word, "Masami.

"She was beautiful. Maybe I was awe-struck from the rush of having my first show, or maybe it was the way she carried herself, they way she spoke… I don't know. But she was very interested in one of my paintings. She praised it and myself for a while as I blushed profusely. I felt so drawn to her. Eventually, I… asked her out. She accepted happily, and we met the very next day for coffee. That started a year-long relationship." He paused, moistening his lips and looking anywhere but at me. He closed his eyes before continuing. "After about seven months I realized I was in love with her, and after four more months, I proposed. She rejected me, saying that it was too soon. I… agreed, sort of. I decided to wait until our first anniversary, but it never came. It would have been a year tomorrow…" he broke off again, furrowing his brow as though holding back tears, "but last night… last night she left me."

He leaned in closer to me, his head now against my chest. One of his hands had gripped my knee rather hard, but I let him without protest. I wrapped my arms around him more tightly as he continued. He sounded on the verge of tears.

"I asked her, 'Why? Why tonight of all nights?' She told me that… that she had been seeing someone else for six months. I felt so used… She said she thought I'd propose again, so she just wanted to end the _charade_. I asked… I a-asked her whom she was seeing… 'Yukino,' she said, 'another woman.'"

And then he did begin to cry. A sob made him shudder against me, but I didn't mind. I didn't think he was weak. I felt sorry for him, though I wasn't sure why. Usually when I heard these sob stories, I'd shut them out, or think that the teller was pathetic. I didn't feel that way about him, though. I held him tighter to me and stroked his hair as soothingly as I could.

"I came here, because…" he choked out, "because I thought, 'if Masami can see other women, then I'll see other men.' Some stupid ploy to make her jealous… But she won't be j-jealous… S-She… She doesn't love me." Tears racked his body as he cried into my shirt. Sympathy coursed through me and I lifted his chin to face me.

As I looked into his teary sapphire eyes, a warm, familiar feeling I still have trouble placing swept through me. All I knew was that I wanted him to stop crying. I wanted him to feel better. Then I did something I had never before done to a client. 

I kissed him.

He whimpered at first, but soon leaned into me, wrapping his arms around my back. He responded feebly but willingly, and it was I who broke away. The dim, sienna light of the room caught the tears in his eyes and was refracted as he looked at me searchingly. I smoothed his bangs out of his eyes, and he almost smiled at me. "Shh," I whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "It's okay."

But he closed his eyes and looked down, his tongue darting out for a moment to moisten his lips before he spoke. "W-why does this… feel so good? Why are you comforting me this way?"

"To tell the truth, I'm not sure why." I tilted his chin up again and he shuddered. "You… you remind me of someone… very important to me." I smiled. "And you know what? I don't even remember her name."

He looked at me questioningly and I chuckled softly. "Do you want to hear the story?" He nodded hesitantly. 

I told him my story then. I told him everything I told you, and perhaps more. I trusted him so much, and I didn't know why.

When I was finished, he just stared at me blankly for a while, apparently at a loss. He seemed sheltered, so I understood.

"Th-that's terrible…" He finally mustered, looking up at me scandalized. "H-how could that happen…? To anyone…? I'm so sorry-"

"I'm not." I interrupted. "What's done is done. There's no escaping it."

He paused to consider this, searching with his eyes before meeting mine with new determination. "I want to help." He said firmly. "I'll give you money; I'll get you out of here-"

"No." I silenced him. "This is where I belong. I have to stay here, and you shouldn't interfere. Don't try to be noble. You could make things worse." He looked disheartened, and I softened. "Hey, I'm fine. I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"But you might not make it much farther." He said plainly, looking down. I sighed sympathetically and stroked his shoulder. We sat silent for a moment before he slumped into my lap. I cradled him like that for quite a while, listening to his deep, slow breathing. 

"Do you want to go home?" I whispered after some time. He rose slowly and rubbed his eye, shaking his head.

"No… No, I might as well get what I came here for." And I was suddenly jolted back to the fact that we were in a brothel, and that I was a whore and he my client. He stood and removed his black raincoat, exposing an equally black mesh shirt. The coat fell to the floor and I rose to help with his other garments.

"Are you sure?" I asked quietly, trailing my fingers to the edge of his shirt. He nodded, kissing me briefly and I slid the fabric over his head. He unzipped my shirt and slid it from my arms, letting it join the heap of clothing beside us. 

As I slid my arms around him, touching our bodies together, I noticed that everything felt very different. Even though I'd been with countless others, doing the same things I was now, it felt completely different. There was a gentleness, to both of us, that I'd never experienced before. It almost felt like… love.

I pushed him slowly onto the bed, fumbling with the zipper of his pants. They slid down past his hips and he arched up into me, trying to hurry the process while at the same time wanting to savor the feeling. His skin was so soft under my hands, and then I _knew_ he'd been sheltered. I wondered if he'd ever thought about loving a man before Masami left him. Then I didn't care anymore as I felt him pull my own pants off my legs. I smiled as I looked up into his face. His eyes were closed and his lips parted as he wrapped his arms around my neck, tangling his hands in my hair. I kissed him again; claiming his lips and his body, even if only for a little while. 

My hand traveled down his chest and stomach, finally coming to rest on his manhood. A small whimper became a lustful moan and his grip tightened on me as I stroked him. I kissed him a few more times on his mouth before trailing kisses down his body. He tensed as I flicked my tongue over the head of his member, another moan escaping his lips. I smiled again, teasing him a bit before swallowing whole. I barely had to fight my gag reflex, since I'd done it so many times before. He seemed to be restraining himself as I sucked him off, trying not to buck into my mouth. I slid my hand to his hips and guided him, letting him do what he wanted.

His thrusts became faster and less restrained, and soon his body tensed as he came; freezing momentarily in that mixture of pleasure and pain before he lie back down beneath me. I swallowed what I could of his essence before moving my mouth back up to his. We kissed breathlessly for a moment until he collapsed, panting heavily. 

"Do you want to keep going?" I asked almost silently as he struggled to regain his breath. He nodded quickly, kissing me lightly and tangling his fingers in my hair again. 

I smiled serenely and leaned over to the nightstand, opening the drawer pulling out a tube of lubricant. I caught his confused look and couldn't help but chuckle. I opened the cap and put some on my fingers before leaning my face close to his ear.

"This is going to hurt." I whispered against the rim of his ear. I felt him nod and tighten his grip on my neck and back. Slowly, cautiously, I slid one finger into him. Again he tensed, letting out a pained gasp, and I felt his short nails dig into my shoulder. Kissing his cheek lightly, I began to slide my finger in and out until he relaxed. When he did, I added another. After the third finger had been added, I felt he was ready. I was glad, too, because I was getting tired of waiting for him. 

He whimpered when I withdrew, and I could tell he wanted more. I only grinned as I lubricated my own throbbing erection, giving myself a few hard strokes to relieve the tension. He spread his legs for me, and I pushed them up to position myself. As the head of my cock rested before his entrance, I caught his eyes. There were so many emotions in them, and I almost felt dirty for defiling him. Innocence was the most prevalent of them all, but lust and revenge found their way in under the cover of anxiousness. 

"Are you ready?" His grip tightened.

"Yes."

One thrust had him screaming and clawing at me. I tried to keep it slow, nearly killing myself in the process. He felt so good, and I was rarely on top anymore, so I wanted to feel him fully. I respected him, though, so I was as gentle as possible. It became an arduous task very quickly, though, and I sped up as he clung tighter. Our breathing was ragged, and he whimpered as I grunted. I opened my eyes at some point and noticed he was crying. I slowed down some, but he gripped me again, urging me on.

"N-no…. H-harder…. Hurt me… Masami!" 

I clenched my eyes shut at that. I was used to people screaming others' names in bed, but it was different with him; so much different. But I gave him what he wanted, thrusting harder and faster each time, figuring I should savor what I could. I'd probably never be with him again, anyway. 

I came soon, and he arched into me, experiencing the feeling of being filled for the first time. I slumped onto him, panting heavily and taking in the familiar aroma of sweat and sex. He kissed my forehead softly and stroked my wet hair out of my face. He smiled sadly as I caught his eye, and I kissed him one last time before pulling out.

He got up rather quickly; dressing and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. I dressed behind him as he lit up.

"That stuff'll kill you, ya know." I said playfully. He turned around and grinned half-heartedly at me.

"Yeah… but it makes me feel better. Guess I care more about the present than the future." He took a long drag and exhaled slowly, filling the room with gray smoke.

"Hey, carpe diem, right?" I smiled as I turned to fix the bed. As I was straightening the sheets, he dropped some bills onto them. I picked them up and counted, shocked at the amount. "T-ten thousand yen…?" I stuttered, looking around at him.

"You were good. Consider it a tip." He smirked, winking and running a hand through his mussed brown hair. "And I still want to help you…" He added quietly. I shook my head but he motioned for me to keep the money.

We both froze for a moment, wearing lop-sided grins. The moment was bittersweet. I felt I'd found something, and here it was about to walk through the door and out of my life forever. Just like she did…

He sighed, licking his lips as though searching for something to say. Instead, he took the few steps toward me and held a chaste kiss to my lips. 

"I guess this is goodbye." He whispered near my ear, not daring to wrap his arms around me. 

"Y-yeah…" I responded feebly, looking at my feet. He smiled that sad smile again, and I swore there were tears in his downward gaze before he turned away, opening the door and holding it for a moment.

"See you around…" He said wistfully as he pulled the handle closed softly.

Then I was alone to contemplate what had happened. I sat down on the edge of the bed, running my hands through my hair. I couldn't think about this; not now. I'd save it for a slow day. 

I looked at my watch: 4:00 a.m. Probably time to go home. I finished straightening the room and left, silently descending the stairs and walking through the emptying hall. I hit my head lightly, muttering obscenities as I began thinking of him again. _Why didn't I take his offer?_ I asked myself. _Why didn't I let him take me with him?_ But I already knew the answer…

I wanted nothing more at that moment than to go back to my apartment. I still had to go see Ansem, though, to give him his share of my pay. I stuffed one of the ¥5000 notes into my jean pocket before entering his office. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

"Ah, Riku," he said smoothly, eyeing me from the other side of his desk, "what have you brought me today, pet?" He smirked as I sat down.

"Here." I said bluntly, placing the note on his desk.

"¥5000?" He asked indignantly before becoming sly again. "You're slipping, my dear."

"It was a slow night." I remarked off-handedly, folding my arms behind my head. "Now, can I have my cut so I can go home?"

"No." He said plainly, eyeing me deviously as I straightened in my chair. "I think you're lying to me, pet." And he rose from his chair, walking around his desk to me. He placed each hand on an arm of my chair, bringing his face close to mine, trying to taste my terror. I did not appease him, though, and he smirked wickedly. I gasped as he suddenly placed a hand on my crotch, squeezing lightly before digging the same hand into my pocket, removing the other bill. 

"Well, well. What have we here?" He waved the bill in front of me. "So, you were hiding money from me? You're a bad, bad pet…. You need to be punished." His grin was malevolent and I cringed.

"Please… please, Ansem, not tonight. I can't-" I pleaded in vain.

"You should have thought of that before lying to me." His tone was terse but then became playfully evil again. "And call me 'Master'."

"M-master…" I choked helplessly as he pulled me up from the chair, forcing me to lean over his desk with my back to him. I struggled, but he pinned my arm in an awkward, painful position. "P-please don't…"

"Now, now, pet, it only hurts for a moment…." 

I winced as I felt his manhood press into my backside. His hand was just about to unbutton my jeans, though, when there was a loud _crack_ and his limp body fell to the floor beside me.

As I stood and looked down at his limp body I had only one thought: _Shit, I'm going to die_. It took several moments before it occurred to me to turn around. For all I knew, there was a pack of thugs there waiting to jump me.

But when I turned, I saw Sora standing there, holding his umbrella and looking almost as pale as the peeling white walls around him.

Give me strength, reserve control. Give me heart and give me soul. Wounds that heal and cracks that fix.


End file.
